Pumpkin Guts
by Captain Vox
Summary: Just a quick look at pumpkin carving with the 221B Crew. Supposed to be funny, not quite a crack!fic though. No real pairings.


(A/N- Just a quick look into Halloween with the 221B Crew. Enjoy, and thanks in advance for any reviews or favorites.)

"Sherlock, can you pass me that?" John looked up from his pumpkin to see Sherlock getting ready to toss the carving knife to him. "No! No, not like that…" He sighed and got up, walking around the table to the other end. He snagged the knife from Sherlock, shaking his head.

Lestrade was standing next to Sherlock, laughing.

Frowning up at the DI, Sherlock pulled the top from his pumpkin. He was perched with his feet on the seat of the chair and pushed up a little to glance inside. His face was priceless.

Molly Hooper, sitting next to him with her hand already in the midst of seeds and pumpkin guts just smiled. "That makes you squeamish when you have body parts in your fridge?"

He looked over at her. "That's for science, Molly. This… I don't understand this."

Mrs. Hudson looked up from her own pumpkin, having seeds spread on a baking sheet. "Oh, it's just fun, dear!"

Donovan and Anderson were on the floor with newspapers spread out doing their own. Mycroft and Harriet were in the living room with the coffee table cleared off. She was taking point on the gutting and Mycroft was looking at with much a similar look as Sherlock.

"Why isn't Lestrade doing one, then?" Sherlock mumbled looking back up at the detective.

"I've already done one."

"No, he's right. We've got one for you, too." John pointed at the one in the middle of the table, though there wasn't really a seat for Lestrade. "We can um, get a stool or something for you?"

Lestrade sighed and shook his head. "Fine, how about I help you Sherlock?" He cocked an eyebrow at the consulting detective.

"Yeah, fine, help yourself." Sherlock shoved the pumpkin towards him.

Lestrade took it and dug in. His button down sleeves were rolled past his elbows so he didn't get any orange gunk on them. He emptied the thing and Mrs. Hudson kept taking the seeds for the tray.

Molly was the first to start tracing, laying out a quick design in pencil.

Sherlock leaned over to take a peek and actually smiled. John caught the look so moved to glance at it as well. He laughed. "An autopsy?"

Molly nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, of Sherlock, see the hair?"

John just shook his head and turned back to his pumpkin, starting his design of a traditional eyes, nose, and spooky mouth cut out. It was simple. Practical.

Lestrade eventually went to his pumpkin when Sherlock started carving out a skull. "So, is that someone we know, Sherlock? The skull on your mantle."

He looked up from the pumpkin, eyed Lestrade, then John a moment, and back to the DI. He just shook his head.

"It's more than likely a Caucasian male," Molly piped up.

"How do you know that?" Anderson looked up from his dinosaur carving.

"Clear markers about the skull noting distinct European and male descent." Molly was looking intently at Sherlock who seemed to be doing his best to avoid her glance all together.

John was just shaking his head.

"Mycroft, do you know?" Lestrade glanced in, taking the guts from his pumpkin and dumping them on the pile on the table.

The man shook his head and kept cutting into his pumpkin, an opened umbrella on the front and closed ones going around the back. He seemed very concentrated on it, too.

Harriet was doing like John, a traditional looking jack-o-lantern with a surprisingly similar face to John's pumpkin. She looked at it, then to Sherlock and chuckled. "Probably your last boyfriend, eh?"

"We're _not_ a couple, Harry. Shut it!" John yelled across the room.

"Sure, sure." She laughed.

Sherlock looked up at Lestrade with a grin on his face suddenly. "You're supposed to be the best DI in the Yard, you should be able to figure it out I would think."

To the completely and utter shock of everyone, the scoop of pumpkin guts in Lestrade's hands went very precisely and purposefully into Sherlock's lap. "And you should have seen that coming." He grinned wickedly, crossing his arms over his chest in a victorious manner.

Sherlock leapt up, brushing it from his suit, mouth agape. He looked up at Lestrade and fumbled for words.

John gaped and then groaned, "Oh, no."

"I… he…" Sherlock's head snapped up and he had the most pathetic pout about his face. "John!"

"What do you expect me to do about it?" John asked, arms covered in pumpkin himself and a carving knife in the other hand.

Sherlock just stared at him. "Well, shoot him."

"Oh no, I already told you, that is _not_ becoming the solution to all of your problems. At least, not ones where you're not dying."

"But you've shot people for me before…"

"Sherlock!" John snapped and looked at the three Yarders in hurried worriment.

Lestrade had an eyebrow cocked, Donovan was gaping, and Anderson stood up sputtering. "We're just going to let that go are we?"

John looked over at him. "Oh shut up Anderson. They're weren't very nice people anyway."

Lestrade spoke up now, "Easy girls, calm down. How about we just get these pumpkins done _without _bloodshed, hmm?"

They all grumbled and got back to work.

At the end of the night the pumpkins sat out on the stoop of 221B- an Molly's autopsy, John and Harry's traditional faces, Mycroft's umbrella, Sherlock's skull, Anderson's dinosaur, Sally's ghost, and Mrs. Hudson's cup of tea.

All of the carvers were now comfortably seated inside with their cup of Mrs. Hudson's tea, arguing over a crap telly Halloween-Mystery show. Sherlock and Mycroft were obviously taking a lead on this, and in the end, one of them would win out.


End file.
